Torn Apart
by Unfortunate Fates
Summary: Blaine and Kurt are finally beginning to get serious, but an unexpected catastrophe leaves everyone reeling.  How far will they go for love?  And how long will it take before they finally have to let go?  Klaine
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I don't own Kurt. Or Blaine. Or Glee. But you don't even know how much I wish I did!**

"So what movie do you wanna see?"

"Well there's that new romantic comedy I've been dying to see. You know, the one with that guy, what's his name?" Kurt was so animated, even when talking about the little things like a movie. I was just so _lucky_. It's not everyday you meet someone who takes your breath away, and even less likely that they would feel the same. Kurt was everything I never knew I needed.

"Sounds good to me. Let's grab some coffee first though. What place?"

"Do you even have to ask?" I could tell he was rolling his eyes even over the phone. I smiled.

"I guess not. See you in five?" I was already grabbing my sweater and walking out the door into the icy wind as he replied, "See you in five."

xxx

As I walked up to the coffeehouse I inhaled deeply and looked around. Seemed like I had beaten Kurt here for once. The Lima Bean was unusually crowded for a Thursday, but it was pretty cold outside. A young couple sitting by the window caught my eye for the simple reason that they looked deeply in love. Not a crush, but love. Sweet.

Kurt burst through the doors, obviously searching for me.

"Hey!" I shouted, waving him over to where I was standing. He walked over in one of his ever-fabulous outfits, his cheeks flushed a startlingly rosy color and his hair styled to perfection, as usual. What I wouldn't give to see it loose and natural, to run my fingers through it- whoa there Blaine. Calm down. Act natural.

"Hey," he breathed as he stopped in front of me, "it's so c-c-cold outside!" It really wasn't _that_ cold; at least not enough to make you shiver like that.

"You all right?" I was honestly concerned at this point. He really did look freezing. I hadn't noticed the shudders racking his relatively small frame until this point.

"Yeah, F-F-Finn took the c-car and I had t-t-to walk. I'm okay th-though. Give m-me a minute and I'll b-b-be f-fine." I put my arm around him and walked up to the line, shaking my head at how ridiculous he had been.

"You walked?" I nearly shouted. What in the world was he thinking? "Next time you need a ride just call me, Kurt. I was coming here anyways! If I had known you were going to walk I would've picked you up!"

"I d-didn't want you to go out of your w-way for me. I was f-fine, really." He honestly was a terrible liar, and I told him so. He just rolled his eyes as I gave the barista our coffee order and paid.

"Keep the change," I said absentmindedly as I walked away with Kurt still under my arm towards an empty table.

"Really Kurt, promise me next time something like this happens you'll call me?"

He looked at me with an annoyed expression on his face. Kurt really was so stubborn. "Blaine, I'm fine-"

"Just promise me, if only to give me some peace of mind."

He sighed dejectedly. "Scout's honor." He mock saluted me and I couldn't help but think how adorable he was even with a scowl on his angelic face.

"Awesome. Now that your escapades are out of the way, what else have you been up to?" I asked. Hopefully changing the subject would get his mind off of the cold. He took a small sip of his coffee before replying.

"Blaine, I just saw you yesterday. N-not much." That was true, but I was just trying to make small talk. I should've known that wouldn't work with Kurt.

"Any new McKinley gossip?"

"Blaine, you don't even know half the glee club at McKinley." He was right. Again.

"Please Kurt humor me." He sighed before beginning a ridiculous story about Finn and Quinn and Rachel and some strange love triangle thing they had going on. It was enough to keep me occupied for a while, even if I wasn't honestly listening to the story. The way he told it, his face lighting up and his hands elaborating on his points was far more interesting. I settled happily into my seat as he finished it, smiling.

"Your friends are better than a soap opera."

"Aren't they?" He smiled distantly, seeming to recall some memory I didn't know about. What I wouldn't do to get into his head for just one second...

I desperately searched my mind for something clever to say, coming up completely blank. I wanted him to get to know me, I really did, but it was hard to forget that I was his mentor first, boyfriend second. That's how it had all started at Dalton. I was behind that now, though, I really was. And I realized I wanted more than anything for him to see past mentor Blaine and meet real Blaine and silly Blaine and romantic Blaine.

"What's your favorite Disney movie?" I asked. That was a secret of mine, I loved Disney. And I mean loved. Madly. Deeply. On my sixteenth birthday I went to Cinderella on Broadway loved. And suddenly I wanted Kurt to know.

"That is a difficult question." He seemed to honestly think for a few seconds. "I've always loved Bambi, even though it makes me cry every time I watch it. Yours?" He cried when he watched Bambi?

"It's a toss up between Beauty and the Beast and Cinderella. I cry when I watch Bambi too, though," I admitted shyly.

"Blaine Anderson has a sensitive side?" Kurt asked gleefully, "Who would've guessed behind all that hair gel?" I laughed, feeling my hair self-consciously. I didn't use _that_ much gel. Okay, I kind of did. But still.

"Don't you worry. There are plenty of sides to Blaine Anderson. And he can't wait to show them to you." That must have come out a little more awkward than I meant it to, and Kurt began to flush. I reached out and touched his cheek. This just made him blush even more furiously.

"You're adorable when you blush, you know that?" I was feeling exceptionally bold after my epiphany. He mumbled something unintelligible and I thought I had gone too far until he grabbed my hand.

"You're adorable all the time, you know that?" he countered, staring into my eyes. Intensely. Unexpectedly I started to blush too. "And you're even more adorable when you're nervous."

"Nervous? Me? Never!" I scoffed, and he laughed that tinkling laugh of his.

Really? I always tried so hard to be cool and collected, and he liked me better when I was nervous? I mulled it over in my head and decided that was okay, as long as he thought I was adorable at all. We sat like that, holding hands, until he took out his phone.

"Oh my Gaga!" his eyes widened alarmingly.

"What? Is something wrong?" He looked shocked.

"Our movie starts in five minutes. We might have to sit in the front!" The look on his face was absolutely priceless as he contemplated the horrors of getting bad seats.

I leaned in slowly and whispered into his ear, "It'll be fun. We can sit in the front, and we can enjoy it, and it will be the best movie ever." He shivered from the warmth of my breath, flushing and looking around to see if anyone had noticed our proximity. Finally he turned back to me and grinned.

"Okay," he whispered back.

And that's how, walking hand in hand, we left the coffee shop, never noticing the three pairs of eyes that followed us on our way out.

**A/N: Something I've been wanting to post for a while now, just an idea that came to me. I have chapter two and most of three written out already, so maybe if I gat enough reviews (hint, hint) I'll post chapter 2 tonight, and something big and dramatic will happen in the story. Not that I don't like Klaine fluff, but I have big plans for this story. I love you all! Review!**


	2. Beautiful Day

Disclaimer: By writing this, I might possibly become delusional enough to believe that Glee is mine, but it isn't

Kurt's Turn:

I walked out of the coffee shop with Blaine's hand in mine, and everything was perfect. I had warmed up (finally) and we had decided on seeing that new chick flick (though I never actually told Blaine that it was a chick flick). I sighed. Everything was perfect.

"Hello? Earth to Kurt!" I made some sort of spastic motion and looked up into hazel, "I thought you had checked out or something. You okay?" Blaine always seemed to be asking if I was all right, or if I was okay. His concern was precious.

"How could I not be? It's a beautiful day!" I shouted to no one in particular. He laughed. I grinned, trying to capture the look on his face. Then, out of nowhere, I was shoved from behind, and my hand was torn out of Blaine's.

"Kurt!" I heard him shout my name, but before I could look up I was restrained by a pair of meaty hands. Neanderthal hands. Karofsky.

"Blaine!" I cried out, searching for him desperately. I finally found him sandwiched in between two huge linebackers with McKinley football jackets. He was thrashing about, and really putting up quite a fight against them, both of who were easily twice the size of his small stature. Suddenly, I saw a flash of silver, and Blaine's eyes widened in horror.

"I wouldn't move another muscle, lover boy," said Karofsky menacingly. Suddenly I felt the tiniest amount of pressure on my neck. Blaine immediately froze, his eyes locked on the weapon.

"Very good. Chase, Aaron, let him go. He won't be any trouble. Will you, lover boy?"

Blaine slowly shook his head, fear filling his eyes.

"Now I'm only gonna say this once, so you better listen closely. There's only one way your precious little fag," he gestured to me, spitting the word out, "is gonna get out of this situation alive." I swallowed, and Karofsky grinned when a single droplet of blood welled up at the tip of the knife, proving his point.

"Leave him alone. I'll do it. Anything. What do you want?" Blaine asked, his anger gone. He just looked desperate. I hadn't realized we had kept eye contact until he broke it, looking at Karofsky.

"Anything," he whispered. Blaine looked like he couldn't stop. "Please don't hurt him. Hurt me. Kill me! But leave him alone."

No. Blaine, shut up! I wanted to scream at him, to make him see that sacrificing himself wouldn't help things, that if the positions were flipped I would say the same thing. But I didn't have to worry about Blaine getting hurt. Karofsky had other plans.

"I don't want to hurt you," I breathed a sigh of relief, "as much fun as it would be. It'd just be a waste of time. If you do what I say though, our little homo might actually survive." Blaine nodded silently, meeting my eyes again. His expression hardened to one of resolve, of determination, until he heard Karofsky's next words.

"Turn around and walk away. Go home. And deny you ever knew anything about where Kurt went. Leave and he lives. Move a muscle in any direction but away from here and I'm not afraid to use this knife."

Blaine's expression turned to one of complete horror and indecision. He kept staring at me, apparently struck dumb. I couldn't bear to see Blaine like this. _Courage, _I mouthed at him. He still didn't move. He had turned to stone, completely frozen in place. _Come on Blaine, get a grip. Just go. He'll kill you too, dammit. Go!_ I silently urged him on.

"Well? I thought you would do 'anything' for your little friend," Karofsky mocked, "not so brave anymore, are we?"

And still Blaine didn't move. I knew what he was thinking, it was written all over his face. It was a lose-lose situation for me. _Just go Blaine! I'll get out of this somehow, I promise_. He seemed to catch on to my pleas, because he slowly backed away, never taking his eyes off of me. Eventually he was out of sight, around the corner of the shop. I knew he wouldn't be far, though. He wouldn't abandon me like that. I was sure of it.

I was prodded rudely in the back and started to walk reluctantly towards Karofsky's car, and saw a figure with a mop of dark hair that may or may not have been Blaine pacing furiously around the corner. The figure then stopped and dropped to his knees on the crowded sidewalk, and even from a distance I could see the sobs wracking the boy's body.

What had started as a beautiful day had gone downhill. Fast.

Xxx

Blaine's Turn:

As we left the coffee shop, I was excited. I was going to see a movie with my boyfriend. I tried out the word. Boyfriend. It had a nice ring to it. Speaking of boyfriends, mine was being very quiet. I looked over at him, and his expression was that of a daydreamer. He had a small smile on his face, and that smile was beautiful.

"Hello? Earth to Kurt?" He jumped adorably, and I chuckled. "You checked out or something. You okay?"

"How could I not be? It's a beautiful day!" He yelled it out for the world to hear, and I had never been happier in my life. A beautiful day indeed. But then, his hand was torn from mine abruptly. My arms were roughly shoved behind my back, and I looked up to see two huge (and I mean _huge_) guys gripping them.

"Kurt!" I shouted. Where was he? What did they do to him? I thrashed about blindly, trying to get to him. Then I saw Karofsky. I had only seen the guy once before, and then he had been confused and defensive. This Karofsky was different, right down to the calculating look in his eye. This Karofsky had a plan.

"Blaine!" I heard my name being shouted by Kurt, then saw him, and started to flail again. If I could just get one of them to let go, I might have a chance. I kicked and shoved, and soon I was working up a sweat. I was _this _close to freedom when I saw the knife. So this wasn't just another bullying session. I felt my eyes grow to the size of saucers as he moved it towards Kurt's neck. No. Not Kurt. Kurt, who never did anything wrong to anyone in his life. Kurt, who was bullied because he was different. Not him. Not him. Oh my God, oh my God. Panic was welling up inside of me.

"I wouldn't move another muscle, lover boy." Against my will, I became a statue. "Very good. Chase, Aaron, let him go. He won't be any trouble. Will you, lover boy?" I jerkily shook my head. The derogatory term just bounced off of me. He could call me all the names he wanted, I didn't care. All I cared about was the boy shaking with fear under his knife.

"Now I'm only gonna say this once, so you better listen closely. There's only one way your precious little _fag_," he gestured to Kurt. Venom welled up in my mouth at that word, and my throat tightened, "is gonna get out of this situation alive."

I was listening with everything I had. I would do absolutely anything. He couldn't kill Kurt. He couldn't.

Kurt swallowed, and I saw a small drop of blood on his neck. Oh my God.

"Leave him alone. I'll do it. Anything. What do you want? Anything. Please don't hurt him. Hurt me. Kill me! But leave him alone!" I couldn't hear what I was saying, and my ears were ringing. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I rambled on, not waiting for an answer. When I finished I held my breath.

"Turn around and walk away. Go home. And deny you ever knew anything about where Kurt went." I could feel myself start to freeze with shock. No. Anything but this. Please. Anything but this. "Leave and he lives. Move a muscle in any direction but away from here and I'm not afraid to use this knife."

Oh my God. Why was this happening? What was I supposed to do? Leave? Leave Kurt with this- with this Neanderthal? I couldn't. I wouldn't. But I couldn't just stay and let him kill Kurt.

"Well? I thought you would do 'anything' for your little friend. Not so brave anymore, are we?" That stung. Of course I would do anything for Kurt. Why, then, couldn't I let him go?

I was still staring into pools of blue when Kurt's mouth moved. _Courage_. It seemed painfully ironic that my advice was coming back to haunt me now. He was trying to tell me to leave though; I could see it in his eyes. And at that moment I knew I had no choice. I took a step backward. Then another. And another. Soon I was turning the corner of the nearest shop.

Now what? Every nerve in my body was screaming at me to fight, but fight how? If I took one step towards Kurt Karofsky would slit his throat. Just. Like. That.

I began to pace like I always did when I was nervous. Call for help? I couldn't tell anyone if I wanted Kurt to be safe. Safe? Who was I kidding, Kurt wasn't safe, Kurt was just alive. It was hopeless. Completely, and utterly hopeless. Once I was out of sight of anyone I knew I slowly sank to my knees. People stared, but I didn't give a crap anymore. Before I knew it I was crying. And not sniffling either. I was full on sobbing. Crying out Kurt's name, cursing the universe, moaning-till-my-throat-hurt sobbing. I finally let myself break down, and it wasn't pretty.

Not by a long shot.

A/N: Thanks so much for all the positive feedback last chapter! This is the one that starts it all off I guess, maybe count chapter 1 as the prologue? I was thinking about how Karofsky hasn't really been a part of season 2 since the Superbowl episode, and who knows what he was doing in the meantime? Maybe he was planning this evil deed? Or maybe he was just playing football and pretending to be straight again. Whichever. But my alternative sounded a little more fun to write :D

Alternating points of view: Love them? Hate them? Review and let me know!


	3. Option 2

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee it would only consist of Blaine, Kurt, and maybe Brittany. Which might not work. So I've left that to the actual Glee owners. **

Kurt's turn:

"I don't exactly understand why you kidnapped me. You'd be the first suspect you know." I needed to talk, to get my mind off of the situation. And the only person to talk to was Karofsky.

"Shut up and stop moving." I had been slowly squirming my hands, and I had almost gotten them out of their bindings. With a sigh I leaned back into the seat. And did I mention that he blindfolded me?

"Just trying to be helpful. What do you want with me anyways?" I really couldn't guess any reason but one. And that reason would explain his request to Blaine. But I really didn't want to think about that. The blindfold over my eyes was doing wonders for my already overactive imagination. Let's just say those were not pleasant mental pictures.

"I said shut up," he growled. We had been in the car for about fifteen minutes and I was starting to get nervous. Blaine wouldn't follow us directly, he was too smart for that, but I was worried that if we went any farther he'd never find us.

I heard the crunch of gravel and the car slowed down and turned into some sort of driveway. I was shoved out of the car and dragged to some sort of building, seemingly empty. I was then pushed into a room and, stumbling, managed to retain my balance enough to sit down. I was about to ask where the heck I was when I heard the door close and a lock click into place. I sighed and finished removing the rope from my hands, then the blindfold. Then I looked around.

What I saw definitely did not surprise me. An empty room, perhaps an abandoned dorm, was my new home. It had a bed, a couch, and an attached bathroom. Not too shabby. I also saw a painting on the wall. Really? I went over and took it down to reveal a safe with an empty combination. I really smiled for the first time since…this morning. That felt like forever ago. But I managed to put a combination in the safe (1-21-93, Blaine's birthday. I wanted as many reminders of him as possible) and stow away my most prized possession before it was stolen off of me: my cell phone. Karofsky's plan may have been pretty efficient, but he might have forgotten that I had a phone. And, by some unbelievable stroke of luck, I had my charger as well.

I quickly texted Blaine, nervous that Karofsky would walk in and catch me.

_In some abandoned dorm about fifteen minutes by car. I'm fine for now. U OK?_

I only had to wait a few seconds for the response

_Any windows? Thank God you're okay, and no, I'm not okay. I'll be fine when I see you again. I'm getting in my car right now to find you. He let you keep your phone?_

I sighed in relief. Blaine was fine, he was on his way. I listened closely for any signs of Karofsky or his henchmen and heard nothing. I guess they forgot about me. Maybe I was being held for ransom? But that didn't make any sense. Hearing silence, I decided to call Blaine.

It only rang once before he answered.

"Kurt? Are you okay? Do you have any idea where you are?" His voice was urgent over the phone.

"He hasn't touched me. I don't know though. The driveway is gravel and my room looks like an old dorm. Does that help at all?"

He sighed in frustration. "I guess a little, but it doesn't eliminate much. I still have no idea where to go from here. I'll find you though, Kurt, if it's the last thing I do. I swear it." His voice was fervent and he sounded terrible. Suddenly I heard something

"Blaine, I hear something. I'll text you later. Okay?"

"Yeah. Hide your phone! Bye." I clicked end and shoved the phone in the safe, which I closed, and proceeded to put the painting up. And not a moment too soon.

"Hey, Hummel. Food." A henchman's voice called out to me.

I looked up as the door opened a crack and a plate with random fast food was slid in. It looked like something off of the dollar menu and it was _not _going to be good for my pores. The henchman left soon after dropping and I listened hopefully until I heard the click of the lock. I guess I wasn't getting out tonight. Or ever. _No_. I was going to get out. Blaine wouldn't stop until I did, I was sure of that.

I'd calmed myself down for approximately thirty seconds when Karofsky burst through the door.

"Hummel, we need to talk." His voice was meant to be menacing, but I just found it funny.

"We certainly do," I replied, "could you remind me again why you kidnapped me in the first place?"

"Hey, I'm doing the talking here. I brought you here to give you an ultimatum. You and your _boyfriend_ are way beyond sickening," he sneered, "and we want it to end."

I fumed internally. He would definitely be doing the same with his boyfriend if he had one. Blaine and I hadn't even gone much further than casual dates; I didn't see what was so sickening about that. Rage bubbled up inside of me and I responded, putting as much venom as possible into my voice.

"Jealous?" The response was instantaneous.

"Shut up! I'm doing the talking, you hear? I've decided to give you two options," by this point he seemed to have gained control of himself, " I have my phone here. Option one: call lover boy, tell him you've escaped, and tell him to meet you at 23145 Woodbridge Lane. We'll take care of him from there. Option 2: you don't get out of here. Ever." His words resonated in my head, but not the words I'd thought would've scared me.

_We'll take care of him from there._ Did that mean-? It had to. They were going to kill him. They were going to kill Blaine, my only reason to get up in the morning.

I was reminded eerily of our duet. "Blow the candles out, looks like a solo tonight." That was what they wanted to do to me. Force me to be alone. Force me to let them kill my boyfriend. Well, they had underestimated just whom they were fighting with.

"Option 2," I replied airily, "That wasn't too tough of a choice."

Karofsky visibly started. "You're going to die, you know."

"It was bound to happen sooner or later." I was kind of surprised at how little I was scared, but the fear would come later, when I was alone. It always did. For now I was fearless, and I planned to take advantage of it.

"We'll see how smug you are after missing a few meals." Karofsky began to smile a cruel, twisted smile, and his statement started to sink in. I never dropped my bravado, not even when he left. That had been the easy part, the decision. Now I had to find a way to tell Blaine.

Xxx

"Kurt!" Blaine's strained voice came through my phone.

"Hey Blaine, umm, something happened today with Karofsky. He gave me an ultimatum." My voice was shaking, I was so scared of his reaction.

"Go on," he said, his voice a little too calm.

"Well, here's what happened. Karofsky came in to my room and he gave me two options. Neither of them involve us getting back together, obviously, and I knew what I had to do, and Blaine I'm sorry, but I-"

"Kurt, calm down! What did he tell you? What were the options?" I could tell he was dreaming up horrible things, and I steeled myself.

"Option one was to call you and tell you to meet me at- to meet me somewhere," I amended, knowing that he would go if I told him the address, "He said they would take care of you from there." Blaine's side of the line was quiet for a moment.

"Option two?" He sounded nervous.

"He'd never let me out." I could hear Blaine's breathing speed up.

"Did he specify where to meet them?" His breath hitched. I could tell he would definitely go if I told him where. And he would kill me himself if he found out I had kept it from him. So I told the truth.

"I chose option two."

"What? Kurt, that's ridiculous! You have your family to come back to. They would never forget you. _I_ would never forget that your death was _my fault_. You can't let him win Kurt, you can't!" Blaine's speech came out in a rush of words. This was the most flustered I'd ever heard him.

"Do you honestly think I could live with the fact that I killed you? If we had switched places you would have made my decision in a heartbeat, Blaine. Please just trust me. And Karofsky didn't win. I did. He wanted to kill you Blaine, not me." I felt collected and my argument was logical. Why, then, did Blaine argue?

"Kurt, no. I'm not letting you do this. If you don't tell him you'll call me then I'll call him myself, I swear." His tone was deadly serious.

"Then he'll kill you and me both." I was defiant.

He sighed tiredly over the phone. "Listen Kurt, I can't let you die. I just can't. Stall as much as possible and see if you can get him to reveal where you are. I'm looking for you, I promise. I won't leave you alone."

"Courage," I half-smiled into the phone.

"Courage," he replied, and I could tell that he was smiling too.

Xxx

"Still going with Option 2?" Karofsky asked, seemingly shocked at my persistence.

"I think so, I don't want- nevermind."

"Nevermind what?" Karofsky looked vaguely interested.

"I just- this is going to sound stupid, but I honestly don't care much about food. I didn't eat for like three weeks after my mom died, and I'm pretty much fine. I just don't feel like I can live without my I-Pod." My voice was utterly convincing.

Karofsky muttered something under his breath about homos and their music.

"All I want to do is sing," I supplied helpfully, "but my room has terrible acoustics. Can I have a new one?" I was fighting the urge to laugh at this ridiculous request, but a look from Karofsky silenced me.

"How about the basement?" He smiled evilly, thinking I would say yes. It was time to abort.

"You know, I really have to go to the bathroom. Excuse me for just _one _minute." It worked like a charm. He was out of the room before you could say _awkward moment_.

Xxx

Blaine's Turn:

I was driving in circles. I was immensely frustrated. And after my conversation with Kurt I was furious. Not furious at Kurt, though, furious at myself. I let this happen. I was with him when they took him away. If I had gotten free before he pulled out the knife, if I'd attacked him when he wasn't ready, if I'd not been too stuck in my own world to even _notice_…. If, if, if.

Had I turned here yet? I couldn't remember. Get yourself together Blaine! You won't find him if you keep looking in the same place. The next street sign said Woodbridge Lane. I turned, hoping deeply that he would be here, that I would find him.

I turned my head sharply. I'd heard a banging from somewhere, sounding like a thump. Maybe a wall or door? It was hard to tell. I waited to hear it again, but heard only silence.

Maybe it was just my imagination.

**A/N: Drama! And maybe a little foreshadowing? Unlike my other story, Because of me, this story actually has a relatively tight plot line I want to follow. The characters may do whatever they like as long as it fits, if that makes sense. **

**Bonus:**

**Will Kurt stick to his decision? Will Karofsky catch on that he still has his phone with him? Will Blaine find him? Stay tuned! **

**Reviews make my life! : D**


	4. All for Nothing

**Disclaimer: Still don't own Glee. Or any of the characters. The plot's mine though! :D**

Kurt's Turn:

I'd decided on a new tactic. Every time I heard a car pass by my windowless room, I threw something at the wall. I didn't know what I was thinking, that someone might hear me? It didn't make sense, but desperation had driven me to it. It wasn't just the hunger, either. That I could handle. It was everything.

I was being treated like an animal. No clothes to change into, no moisturizer, nobody to talk to; I was a mess. It was starting to get to be too much. After only two days I felt pathetic.

Every time I felt this way I called Blaine, who was more than happy to talk to me. He couldn't call me himself, for fear of someone hearing my phone, but I called him all the time. I let him know of my system, and he said he'd thought he'd heard something yesterday as he was driving. My heart swelled up with hope until he realized that he'd forgotten the name of the street.

"You forgot?" My voice was calm, but inside I was frustrated.

"I know Kurt, I'm so sorry, I'm trying to remember, I promise!" Blaine's voice was tenser than ever.

"It's ok, it's ok. You need to calm down before you remember. Do you have any idea?" Then an idea came to me. I didn't want to have to mention it for fear of option one becoming a reality, but I needed him to find me.

"Was it Woodbridge, by any chance?" I asked tentatively. If I were wrong this would cause even more trouble than it was worth.

He thought for a moment before I heard a sharp intake of breath. "Yes! Yes, Kurt! Yes!" he shouted into the phone. I grinned and laughed out loud, hearing the engine revving in the background.

"I'm on my way!" he yelled unnecessarily.

"Bye Blaine. Text me when you get to the street and look for Karofsky's car."

"Uh huh. Bye!" he sounded ecstatic, and I cautiously let some happiness in.

I hid my phone and went to the bathroom to try and wash my face properly without soap while I waited for Blaine to come to my rescue.

Xxx

Blaine's turn:

I was going to find him. I was going about sixty miles per hour on a neighborhood road, but I didn't care. I was going to find Kurt and- turn in Karofsky? Hide? I had no idea. But I would cross that bridge when I got there. Now I was just worried that I wouldn't make it in time. The needle crept up to sixty-five. Now to seventy. I careened around a corner and truly smiled for the first time since my date with Kurt.

Woodbridge Lane, the sign read. I just had to figure out which house it was, and how to get in. That was going to be tougher than I thought. I crept along slowly, jerking at every bump, and caught sight of the truck I'd been looking for all day today and yesterday. I rapidly pulled out my phone and fired off a text to Kurt.

_I found you. How do I get in?_

Soon a response lit up my screen:

_I have absolutely no idea. Do you want me to throw something again, just to make sure?_

I suddenly had a crazy, dangerous idea.

_How about you sing. I know your voice better than mine even. _

And then I felt like a complete idiot for endangering both our lives.

I was about to send _Nevermind, bad idea,_ when I heard something. I strained my ears.

"…and learn to fly. All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise."

Found him.

I was ready to try and sneak in a back way when I heard a crash and a strangled cry from the same house. The song ended abruptly, and I dropped all my stealth, running towards the house at a dead sprint.

I had to get to Kurt.

Xxx

Kurt's turn:

I was so close. _We_ were so close. Freedom was a step away. And then I started to sing.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night…" I'd picked a song with meaning behind it, hoping to get to Blaine, and only Blaine. Apparently, however, other people in the house didn't enjoy it. Namely, Karofsky. As I was beginning the chorus I heard a sharp bang as the door slammed open.

"Shut up!" he roared. I'd finally found his breaking point. "Just shut up, okay. You wanna know why I kidnapped you? Here's why." I was shocked at the sudden outburst, but definitely listening.

He continued, "I've been in love with you since the sixth grade. Every day you are a reminder of the life I never wanted. I wish I were straight. Every minute of every day I wish I was straight and there's nothing I can do about it. And then I have to see you, parading around like some kind of fairy, when I was at my peak. I was a jock. I couldn't like a fairy. That's stupid. And every day I had to watch you walk around with your stupid boyfriend and it _killed_ me. So I made a decision. If I can't have you, nobody can." My blood ran cold at his convoluted, yet brutally honest profession of love. It honestly scared me. Of course I'd had a feeling when he'd kissed me, but I thought it was just him realizing he was gay.

I hadn't wanted to think about this possibility, that he just wanted me apart from Blaine, but I thought about it on the way here, in his disgusting truck.

"That's disgusting," I said with venom, "if you honestly loved me you would just let me go already. It's not that hard!"

He considered me gravely, "For me it is." I wondered vaguely at a banging on the door, but my thoughts were centered on his statement. I shivered.

Then he knocked me out cold.

Xxx

Blaine's turn:

I ran up to the front steps and started to pound on the front door like it was Karofsky's face. When the door opened I was met with a fist connecting to my nose that left me reeling and four arms dragging me inside.

"Where's Kurt?" I managed to ask through the blood pouring down my skin from my probably broken nose.

One of the henchmen chuckled. "Took care a' him. Thank God too. That homo was starting to get annoying."

Took care of him? My heart was thudding in my chest sickeningly.

My hands were tied roughly behind my back and I was shoved into an empty room. I considered calling out to Kurt but it didn't sound like he was in very good shape from what the Neanderthals had told me. Anything I did could be used against him. Yet I struggled uselessly with the bindings around my hands.

About two hours had passed when everything started to sink in. _Don't let him win_, I'd told Kurt just the day before. It seemed cruelly ironic that due to my actions he had. I felt tears welling up in my eyes. My rage was turned completely inward.

You idiot. You complete and total idiot. You coward. This is your fault, Blaine, yours. Kurt was brave, and Kurt was calm. You were an idiot and a coward.

By this point I really was crying, and crying loudly. I was locked in my own world until I heard a hesitant, quiet knock on the wall.

"Blaine?" I heard a whisper.

Trying to collect myself, I answered, "Kurt?" My voice broke embarrassingly.

"Yeah, it's me. I guess we're neighbors now. Do you still have your phone?"

My phone! I reached for my pocket, and found it empty. Despair crushed me, along with guilt and sorrow and a wave of emotions that almost made me cry again. Almost.

"No, I think I left it in the car." I could tell he was aware of how hoarse I was.

"It's fine. Wait- Do you hear-?" his voice had suddenly become very hushed, I could hear him moving away from the wall quickly.

"No!" I whispered pitifully, knowing he wouldn't hear me. Then the door opened, and I heard Karofsky walk in. For all his talk about my intelligence, he was proving to be eons smarter than me. Taking a few step away from the wall, I strained my ears.

It was time to find out what was in store.

Xxx

Kurt's Turn:

They had Blaine.

I had known I would be fine if they stayed away from him. I didn't care too much about myself. Yes, I was a diva, but my family (and that included Blaine), meant more to me than anything.

My musings were interrupted when I heard the door open. Thank goodness I had moved away from the wall.

"Hey homo, your boyfriend's here. Nice of him to join us. It was only a matter of time, I guess," he grinned evilly. A matter of time? Had they been expecting this?

"He is?" I failed at a casual tone.

"So you knew. Interesting. I guess the guys weren't too quiet bringing him in. It shouldn't matter much though. We are going to have _tons_ of fun with the two of you here. In the same place." His tone honestly frightened me. Fun?

He took out a gun. I stopped breathing. Very slowly he pointed the gun towards me. Then he spoke, "Chase, Aaron, bring in lover boy."

I heard some movement in the next room, and then Blaine was forced in. He looked awful. His eyes were bloodshot, hair everywhere, and he looked like he hadn't slept since the…incident. At first he just looked murderous, but he quickly caught sight of the gun and his eyes widened in fear.

"Anderson, nice of you to come over. I was just talking to your boyfriend about how much fun you two will be." Blaine's brows knitted in confusion, but his eyes were still trained on the gun. Mine were focused on him.

We waited for Karofsky to elaborate.

"So Hummel here chose to die so that you could live. Too bad it was all for nothing, isn't it? Here Chase, hold this, and keep it on Hummel here," Karofsky passed off the gun, "I'm gonna have my own fun."

He walked over to Blaine and I couldn't help my outburst, "No! Leave him alone!"

"That would ruin everything, wouldn't it? One move and Chase shoots, got it?" Blaine nodded curtly, "Good. I think we'll get along just fine."

Then Karofsky grabbed a knife from his other sidekick, who was still holding on to Blaine's arms. "Aaron, you can let go. Trust me, he won't move. Go grab Hummel or something," and he did. My arms were soon restrained behind my back.

Karofsky spun the knife lazily in his hand, but Blaine's eyes never moved from the gun. Slowly, he moved the knife towards Blaine's arm, resting the tip on his forearm. Blaine stiffened as the knife broke the skin, almost gently, and a thin stream of blood ran down it, but he never moved a muscle. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying out.

Suddenly, the knife swooped downward; creating a gash that caused Blaine to cry out in pain. Still he didn't move.

"Having fun, homo?" jeered Karofsky.

"If it gets Kurt out alive, then I'll take it," Blaine's eyes were still on the gun, and they were resolved.

I felt like screaming. This was worse than any nightmare. There was nothing I could do without killing myself, and that would just hurt Blaine more. I was helpless. Or was I? Maybe if I could get Karofsky to focus on _me…_ The idea was sickening, I didn't have a high tolerance for pain, but what else could I do?

"Take me," I said quietly. But it was loud enough. Karofsky looked at me.

"How sweet. It's almost sickening. Take you?" he was mocking me, but I didn't care. Every second he was mocking me Blaine was safe. So I kept talking.

"Yes, take me. He didn't do anything. I didn't tell him to come. Let him go. I'll stay, I swear, if you just let him leave," I hadn't noticed when I started crying, but I noticed when I stopped. Now I could feel it, the driving force behind the resolution in Blaine's eyes.

"Kurt-"

"No, Blaine. This is what I want," and I was shocked to see tears in his eyes.

"All right, all right. I'll let him go on one condition. He gets to watch while I have my fun with you," my stomach twisted horribly at his words. Blaine shut his eyes involuntarily, and it looked like was willing the tears to stop.

Now Karofsky approached me with the knife, and I wanted to shut my eyes, but I couldn't. He rested the point on my collarbone, sliding it across slowly, leaving a red, wet trail where it had been. I held my head high, but it stung terribly. Then he moved the knife to my shoulder, cutting away my shirt. I shivered, and soon felt a sharp jab in my stomach. Hissing with pain, I looked down, only to have my head spin. Blood was oozing out of the wound at an alarming rate, and a whimper escaped my lips.

Looking at Karofsky's face, I could tell this was far from over.

I was terrified.

Xxx

Blaine's turn:

If I didn't look they would kill Kurt, but it was so hard. I could feel tears freely falling down my face.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

But he didn't. Every new cut was awful. Every cry of pain, torture. But I couldn't move. I couldn't be the strong one forever. And I had finally broken down. I'd thought I'd broken down before. This paled in comparison.

I kept watching. Karofsky had already stabbed Kurt in the stomach, created a gash in his arm, and was now working on the shoulder. It was horrifying.

He seemed to be carving something, and I couldn't watch anymore. I didn't want to. I wanted this all to be a nightmare, but a scream of pain from Kurt, the loudest yet, just made me cry harder. It was real.

After the first whimper, I could tell Kurt was trying to keep it together for me. Think, Blaine, think! Standing here and crying isn't gonna get you anywhere! I racked my brain for a plan, but I couldn't think past the images in front of me. Gashes that would certainly scar, blood everywhere; that I might be able to take on a TV show. But seeing it here, personally, was wrong. And Kurt wouldn't move. He was taking it so that I might live.

Stop.

Only two words were running through my head. Stop, and Kurt. I could barely see now, I was just crying my eyes out.

I finally found something I could grasp onto. Kurt was looking at me, and looked right into his eyes. His were wide, wild with pain. Mine were red, terrified, and shocked at what I'd witnessed. But we held on. And finally, it did end. I wanted to be relieved, but I couldn't relax. Kurt was still in pain, he could barely move without wincing. As I was escorted (shoved) to my room I saw him mouth my name with a sad smile way beyond his years.

I couldn't bring myself to smile back.

Xxx

Kurt's turn:

That was torture. I'd heard the phrase countless times, and used it myself on more than a few occasions.

P.E: That mile was torture!

Math: That test was torture!

But I was so wrong. So beyond wrong it was sickening. Because I had experienced torture firsthand, and it wasn't pretty. I checked my phone, and the screen lit up with a cheery 4:56 AM. I had tried to sleep earlier, but the visions were so horrific that closing my eyes just wasn't an option.

"No! Stop! Stop!" Blaine was having a nightmare. I could hear the horrified screams through the poorly insulated walls, but there was nothing I could do. The shouts eventually turned into sobs that I could almost feel racking his body. I covered my ears.

"Stop! Please stop! You promised! If you needed help you would let me, you promised!" the accusatory tone did nothing to make me feel better. Blaine was crying again.

I threw my shoe at the wall with as much force as I dared. I went to the bathroom and ran the faucet, even tried singing. He wouldn't wake up.

"Stop! Kurt, I'm sorry! This was my fault! I'm so sorry…" his voice was hoarse and rough with tears, almost unintelligible, but I could hear him loud and clear.

Xxx

My door opened, and I stiffened with fear, backing away slowly. It was probably Karofsky to torture me again.

"Kurt? You okay? They left my door unlocked for some reason," I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I winced, trying to move my shoulder, "mostly. How's your arm?" I slowly hobbled over to him, and he gave me an awkward hug. I could tell he was trying not to hurt me.

"First, you aren't fine. Second, my arm is fine. My head is not after what I had to witness last night. Third, we should move this to the bathroom before we get caught."

I nodded slightly, and he helped me slowly walk across the tattered carpet, closing the door behind us when we reached our destination.

"Kurt, stop being noble," he said bluntly. I was a little confused.

"If you keep letting him dig into you he'll kill both of us," he clarified, "he doesn't want me alive no matter what. Let him kill me and you might just get out of here. I know I won't. Please, just listen to me Kurt."

"Do you think I can just sit there and watch him hurt you? Blaine, I-"

"Do you think that makes it any easier for me? Do you think I could just sit and watch you get cut again and again?" the pain in his voice was tangible, "I'm assuming you heard me last night? I yell when I have nightmares, or so I've been told," he was talking to his shoes now, "But that's what will haunt me, to the day that I die, if you make me watch."

Listening to Blaine, I had a realization. It was a lose-lose situation. Both of us would be hurt. There was no way out unless we escaped. And I knew I needed to get Blaine out. I needed to save his life. I needed to welcome death with open arms.

It was the only way.

**A/N: Wow. This was so hard to write. It's a lot longer than I originally intended, but ideas kept coming. I'd like to thank everyone who alerted or reviewed this story, it's so awesome to see people like it. **

**What's Kurt's plan? Will Blaine make it out alive? Stay tuned!**

**Reviews = faster updates! :D**


	5. Hostage

**Disclaimer: Still no ownership of Glee. * Sigh ***

Blaine's Turn:

I'd almost missed it. As I was turning around to leave I'd almost missed it. And missing it would have been terrible. Because missing it would have meant that something horrible could have happened. But because I hadn't missed it, I could try to prevent it.

I was about to leave, but I turned around one last time. If I hadn't, I would have missed the gleam in Kurt's eye. The one that meant he had a plan. A crazy, dangerous plan, but a plan nonetheless. A plan regarding me. Regarding both of us.

I shuddered, feeling a pit in my stomach as I had since the moment Karofsky took out the knife.

Why? Why did this happen to us? Why us and not some other tormented couple? Why Kurt? Why was it always Kurt?

The questions whirled through my head, blending together, all creating a summation of one word – Why? Because that was all I could ask at this point. We weren't getting help unless we called the police, which we couldn't because we were in this stupid house with no- wait. Kurt had a phone. Kurt could call 911. So why didn't he? Why was _I _his first call and not the police station? I knocked on the wall, curiosity getting the better of me.

"Kurt?"

"Yeah?" he whispered hoarsely. He sounded like he was in pain.

"Why didn't you call 911 when you realized you still had your phone?"

"I couldn't," he said wryly, "I tried, but it seems like my phone got damaged when those Neanderthals dragged me to the truck and threw me in here. The whole bottom half of the screen shattered and I couldn't reach the nine. Trust me, I tried." He paused for a moment, but the silence was weighted. I could tell he wanted to say something else.

The question came hesitantly, "Why didn't you?"

"I don't know. I was an idiot. I thought I could save you myself. I'm so sorry Kurt. This was all my-"

"No it wasn't! Do you know how long I've been sitting, just thinking about the what ifs? And do you know what the worst one was? What if I'd never met you? And it made sense and it tormented me. You'd never have gotten hurt. We'd never have been in this situation." His voice cracked harshly at the end, and he started to cough dryly.

"What ifs will get us nowhere." I felt the sudden need to tell him something, anything, to make him happy. We only had so much time left.

"You make me happy, Kurt. I read a quote one day and I thought of you, and I wanted to tell you at the movies. I just remembered it."

"Yeah?"

"Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice, but falling in love with you I had no control over." I smiled through the wall.

"That's perfect," he said. And he laughed, managing not to cough at all.

Maybe there was hope after all.

Xxx

Kurt's Turn:

I needed a plan. If Blaine was getting out, which he would, I needed a plan that would distract all of Karofsky's henchmen and give him enough time to get away. It needed to be perfectly choreographed and it needed to work.

So I thought. And thought. And thought some more. But every time I tried to make a plan bittersweet memories would distract me.

The first time I ever met Blaine. Our duet. All of our coffee dates as friends, and the only one that really counted. Getting attacked. Everything.

I needed a plan. Focus, Kurt. Come on. How could I distract them? Maybe I could use the lamp as a weapon; it had a sharp edge from where I was hit by Karofsky. How could I lure them in and alert Blaine to my plan? I knocked on the wall.

"Blaine!" I hissed as loudly as I dared.

"Yeah?"

"You need to listen to me. I have a plan-"

"Does this plan involve us both getting out safely?"

"Eventually," I hedged. It was the best I could do.

"Kurt, don't. I'm not leaving you again."

"You could get help! You could get to your car and your phone and then to a police station!" This wasn't exactly the logical way I'd wanted to sell it to him.

"No. Why don't you go?" His tone was firm.

"I won't get anywhere fast with my- my injuries."

He paused for a moment, and I could almost feel him wincing through the wall. Yes, my injuries were gruesome. My stomach and shoulder had taken the worst of it, and I found it difficult to get up or raise my right arm above my head.

"I can't," he said finally, a tone of helplessness in his voice.

"You have to Blaine, it's our only hope. I can distract them, you just need to run. Is your door still unlocked?"

"Yeah, it is, but I'm not leaving Kurt."

"Just listen! When you hear them come to my room, you run. Just go and get away from here. When you get far enough away call 911 and then come back for me. Okay?"

"No, Kurt, I can't. You know I-"

I'd heard enough. My only hope now was to force Blaine into our plan, for better or for worse, so I yelled. Loudly.

"Hey meatheads!" I could hear Blaine protesting as loudly as he could without getting caught, but I ignored him, "You guys are nothing but Neanderthals! You hear?"

Immediately I heard them rushing towards my room and I knocked on the wall lightly before hopping away, letting Blaine know to get ready. If he didn't run we were both screwed.

"Shut it Hummel. You want trouble?" Chase (and Aaron) ran in.

"What if I do?" Run Blaine, run! Go now before they realize it's all a distraction!

I heard a door swing open and footsteps along with a muttered swear word. Thank God. He was out. Now I had to keep them here as long as possible.

"Then we make trouble." 

"Good. Life is boring here. Let's stir things up, shall we?" My heart was pounding. Please don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me. Or follow Blaine. I said a final prayer to nowhere before I opened my mouth to sing. If I was going out, I was going out with a high F.

And was cut off.

"Hey fairy, what's going on? Trying to start a fight? Don't want us to bring your boyfriend in here, do you?" Karofsky had sauntered in and used his best argument. Too bad it wouldn't work.

"What if I do? Maybe it's time we settled this." He could hear my heart pounding, I knew it.

"Hey, guys, bring in lover boy. Time for some more fun." He grinned evilly and I knew I had done the right thing getting Blaine out. It really had been the only choice. I braced myself for impact when the room was found to be empty.

"What do you mean he's gone? You locked the door, didn't you?" Negative. "You idiots! Why the hell did I hire you anyways? Go find him!" The two ran out the door and I heard the car start up. Please let Blaine have gotten far in the little time he had. Please let him be safe. Please let him get help.

"Well, well, well. Why didn't you have your friend take you with him? Are you not important enough?"

I just stared at him, my mouth clamped shut. I wasn't going to say anything until I had to.

"Not feeling talkative? Then we might just have to _make_ you talk."

He walked towards me with the knife and I trembled.

Please let Blaine have gotten away.

Xxx

Blaine's Turn:

I was the coward. Again. Every time I tried to help I ended up running. I was driving at about 80 miles per hour on a 30 mile per hour road. Go, go, go.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"My friend is at 263-" And my phone died. Frustrated, I threw it at the door of my car, managing to break it. Why? Why did this have to happen to me? I had been blindly driving, not knowing consciously where I was going until I arrived at my destination: Kurt's house.

Oh my God. In all the craziness had we really forgotten to update Burt? I'd seen the missed calls but they were predominantly when I was either on the phone with Kurt or held captive.

He was going to kill me.

Xxx

"Blaine! Where the hell is my son?" He looked about ready to murder me. I guess I'd been right.

"Hello sir, right now he's being held captive by Karofsky in an abandoned house on Woodbridge Lane. Can I use your phone to call the police?" I was somewhat astounded at my tone. It was as if I'd just been getting a cup of coffee. Which, technically, I had been, but given the circumstances it was a little strange.

He stood stock-still. "Captive?"

"Sir, I really need to use your phone, this is important. It-"

"Is he all right?" The pain in his voice was tangible.

"For the most part, yes." It was the best I could do at the moment. "The phone?"

"Here, here," he handed me the phone and I dialed as quickly as possible. I was answered by the robotic attendant and was told that they were sending out a squad car as soon as possible.

"Let's go," said Burt to me, holding out the car keys.

"With all due respect, sir, I don't think-"

"I said let's go," this time his voice was closer to a growl. I could see a protective glint in his eye, and I knew he wouldn't be dissuaded.

Shrugging, I turned the keys in the ignition and began to drive at a ridiculous speed towards Kurt. We needed to save him.

Xxx

When we arrived, there were already several police cars in front of the house. All of the officers were standing outside, some pacing, others talking into radios.

"Excuse me, what's going on here? My son is in that house and you're all standing around doing absolutely noth-"

A grave officer responded, "They have a hostage."

They were using Kurt as a hostage? What did they want? I voiced my question to the head officer and got one response.

"The death of a certain Blaine Anderson."

Xxx

Kurt's Turn:

F-A-G. The ugly word was now carved into my back. It didn't help that it stung every time I moved. A constant reminder.

I was dizzy- from all the blood loss, I supposed- and almost fell when I tried to stand up. Karofsky hadn't had to torture me long; after his "art" on my back, a swift knife to the thigh left me gasping for breath. I told him that Blaine was gone and that it was my fault. I told him our plan and the pain dulled. I sank to the ground, sweat covering my face.

When Karofsky left, I hung my head at my weakness.

I'm sorry, Blaine. I'm sorry.

Xxx

I struggled under the grip of- Chase? Aaron? I didn't know- and was soon met with a gun to the forehead.

"I wouldn't move, homo." Karofsky again. I wished I could wipe that stupid smirk off of his face.

"What could you possibly want _so freaking much_ to go through all of this for?"

"A normal life, how about? I can't be normal with you fairies going around all over the place. It's a constant reminder of my _failure_, okay? Just deal with it!"

Failure? Ouch. This guy was seriously messed up. I considered telling him so, but decided that wasn't the best idea at the moment.

"Police, we have you surrounded! Come out with your hands up!" I'd never heard a sweeter sound in my life.

"Aaron, go tell them we have a hostage. They won't come up here then."

Really? I had been so close to freedom. And yet again it was yanked away. At least Blaine was safe. He had to be if he'd called the police. He had to be.

Suddenly I was dragged harshly to the balcony, a gun pressed against my temple.

"We'll give him back safely if you give us someone else. An exchange, if you will. Bring us Blaine Anderson and we'll give you Kurt here safe and square. No questions asked. Do it by midnight tonight or we kill Kurt."

My knees went weak. Why did this have to happen to us? We were only weeks into our relationship, everything was perfect. But that was just my life. Nothing could be perfect, not for Kurt Hummel. Of course not.

I rattled off every curse I knew, and made up a few, but I didn't feel any better. I was just mad. Mad at the world. Maybe my life was screwed up, but why did Blaine have to come into all this? Blaine was happy and perfect and everything I'd ever wanted to be. I admired Blaine. And I was the one to drag him into this mess.

Xxx

"I hate this," I said brokenly to my empty room, after yelling and kicking all my anger out previously. I now had a new bruise on my cheek where Karofsky had silenced me.

I was numb now, three hours later, alone. There was nothing I could do but wait. I hoped with all my heart that Blaine would leave me here. I couldn't stand to see him die. I just couldn't. I wished I could tell him, but I'd already tried calling him. His phone was dead.

Contacts-Favorites-Blaine, Cedes, Dad-Dad Cell-Call

Ring. Ring. Ring-

"Kurt? How do you have your phone? Are you okay? We're getting you out, I promise."

"Hey dad," I winced at my lifeless tone, "I'm fine. And don't let Blaine give up. Whatever you do, don't let him die. Please."

"Kurt, we're getting you out. No one's gonna die."

"Dad, I'm not leaving. I won't let Blaine do this. If any police people come up here I'll be dead in an instant. Once it's midnight I'll be dead in an instant. If Blaine gives himself up, he'll be dead in an instant. It's lose-lose-lose-lose-lose in so many ways. Maybe if I stay up he-here they'll m-make it quick," my voice was barely a whisper as I finished my not so inspirational speech.

My dad was silent for a long time, and I guess he was thinking.

"Kurt, I love you no matter what. You can't always be the martyr, though. Just know that. Blaine wants to talk to you, okay? Love you."

"Love you too Dad. Bye." I was crying by this point, fat tears running down my face.

"Kurt? It's Blaine. We're getting you out, I promise. You're gonna be okay."

"Will you?" my voice was barely audible and thick, but somehow he managed to understand exactly what I meant. He always did.

"I don't know. If possible, yes. But if it means- getting hurt to get you out, I'll do it." I hadn't missed the stutter.

"Blaine Anderson, if you kill yourself just to get me out I'll- I don't even know what I'll do. But it won't be pretty. I'll probably lock myself I my room for hours and watch bad chick flicks until I waste away into nothing."

He had the audacity to laugh, but soon stopped. It was not a time for laughter.

I decided to cut straight to the point. "I'm not leaving."

"Yes, you are," he sounded fully confident.

"I won't. You can't make me. If he has an ultimatum, so be it. I can wait it out. Only like eight hours left anyways. I can sing or something to pass the time. I just hope he makes it quick. I never was-"

"Stop it. You won't stay because we're getting you out no matter what. Do you know how broken up your father is about all of this?"

"Yes, I do! You don't get it! If you kill yourself I won't care anymore! I'll be a vegetable and end up hurting him even more! You don't get it. You just don't."

"You think I don't get it?" his tone was low and dangerous, "Really? Just think about it. Imagine if the roles were reversed. Do you think my decision would be any different from yours? Or yours any different from mine, for that matter? I love you, Kurt. And I know you love me too. The only thing keeping me from shoving a bullet straight through my head right now is the only reason I would do it in the first place. You. And you think I don't get it?"

"We can't win," I whispered hoarsely.

"Not according to Karofsky. But we can fight."

"How? How can I fight the one thing keeping you alive?"

"Courage."

**A/N: So here's the deal. I tried not to make it too much of a cliffhanger, because most of my other chapters have been intense, but I had about four thousand words of this chapter written and realized I had no intention of stopping anytime soon. I decided just to split it here and get the next part up as soon as possible. Sorry for the late(r) update, I've been immensely busy with school. I'll also be working on the next part of Because of Me. **

**As always, reviews are appreciated and cherished.**

**Will Kurt fight back? Will Blaine or Kurt out alive? Will anybody survive this? I know! (But you don't, so stay tuned!)**


	6. Making a Choice

**Disclaimer: If I owned Glee the next episode would come a lot sooner that late April, I promise.**

Blaine's Turn:

What to do? Kurt was right. We couldn't win if we played by Karofsky's rules. And his rules were being enforced with deadly weapons. We just needed a way to get Kurt out safely without killing me. Hopefully.

"You all right son?" Burt turned to me. I could tell he was struggling inwardly, and I understood. Kurt was going to get hurt no matter if he died or if I did. But what would hurt him more? I didn't want to think about that.

"I will be, I guess. Once I figure out what to do I'll be fine. It's the indecision that's killing me," I lowered my voice to a hoarse whisper, "I would die for him, you know that. I just don't want to end up hurting him more. He went through all of this _mess _for me. To get me out safely. I don't know if it would help to just kill me now."

Burt just shrugged noncommittally.

Was it worth it to die? After all that we'd been through was it even fair to die? No, of course not. But how could we avoid it? We needed to get him out.

I sat down on the street. Some of the policemen looked at me a little strangely, but I didn't even care anymore.

"Why did this have to happen?" I wasn't even looking at Burt but he seemed to understand that I needed an answer, no matter what it was.

He kneeled next to me and put a hand on my back hesitantly. "I don't know. I just don't know."

He didn't flinch when I leaned into him.

Not even when I started to cry.

Xxx

I looked up tiredly, my eyes straining against the bright sun to find the face that addressed me.

"You're Blaine Anderson, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," I didn't need to look up to feel the pity in his eyes.

"Can I ask you a few questions?" he asked carefully. I just nodded.

"Okay. How do you know Kurt?"

"He's my boyfriend." To his credit, the officer didn't even bat an eye. I decided I liked him.

"How do you know Karofsky?" 

"He used to bully Kurt. He's still in love with him."

"So Karofsky is gay as well?"

I nodded, but felt the need to elaborate, "He's so far in the closet I don't know if he'll ever really come out."

"And you know of his terms for the whole hostage situation?"

"Yes, I do. And if we have to, I'll go." He was already shaking his head.

"We're hoping it won't get to that point. Our crew is looking for any way to contact Kurt. Do you know how we could do that? A secret code or something?" No to the secret code, but the easiest way was so obvious it was painful.

"You could call him. He has his phone."

"He does? Is he alone?"

"Probably. Karofsky likes to randomly shove him in his room and leave him alone," my tone was getting harsher with each word, so I tried to calm down, "I would try. It's probably on silent anyways. Kurt isn't stupid." My words were still sharp, but the officer just looked sympathetic. I guess being in this kind of situation gave me some slack.

"We will. And Blaine?" I looked up again, "you've been really brave through this all. Kurt would be proud."

He was trying to be nice. I could tell by the sincerity with which he said this.

Why, then, did I feel so hopeless?

Xxx

Kurt's Turn:

I'd made my decision. This was it. The end. He'd won. We'd lost. But that wasn't completely true. I'd saved Blaine. I smiled a little, albeit shakily, but smiled all the same. Blaine was all right. There was no way he could endanger himself again. It wasn't possible.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I checked the number. Unfamiliar. Should I answer?

Might as well. I'd be dead by midnight anyways. The thought dampened my already somber mood, and I glared at the screen.

"What?" I asked.

"Kurt? This is officer Sanderford. We need you to stay calm. We will get you out."

"Don't bother. I won't leave if it involves Blaine in any way." I was set. The more times I said it, the surer I was that I could do it. I could be strong for Blaine.

He sighed impatiently, "Yes, we know. You seem to have made that very clear to both your father and Blaine. We are trying to get you both out safely. Please listen to me. Where is Karofsky?"

I listened carefully and put my ear to the door. Nothing.

"Not in the near vicinity of my door. Maybe bathroom or something? Next room? I have no idea. Don't care."

"Kurt, are there any windows in your room or the bathroom? Blaine said there was one in his room," so they had spoken to Blaine. Blaine was fine. My heart soared. I complied, checking for openings.

"No windows in the main room, one small window in the bathroom."

"Could you fit through it if you had to?"

I looked at it closely, even standing on the counter to get a better look. It was rectangular and flat and about six feet off the ground. I could probably fit.

"Maybe. I think so."

"Okay, you need to-"

I suddenly heard footsteps running towards the bathroom. I held my breath and began to run the faucet, hoping that the thick-skulled jock would think I was washing my face or something.

"Who are you talking to, homo?" Of course it had to be Karofsky.

"Oh, just myself," I tried to sound natural, "why? Is there a problem?"

"You weren't talking to yourself. Get out here right now."

"And if I don't?" I asked, silently putting the phone on speaker and whispering, "don't talk, just listen," to the officer.

"I'll have to break my way in. And when I get in, it won't be pretty for you, fairy boy."

"Can you stall?" I heard a whisper from the phone.

"I can try, but it won't be for long. Can you put Blaine on the line? I'm just gonna let the cards fall as they may. I'm tired of it all."

I just didn't feel up to stalling. It wasn't worth it. I might as well be sent off by the one person I'd ever truly loved.

"Kurt, we need you to stay calm. Can you stall?"

"No I can't!" I heard the first thump against the door. I didn't have long. "Just put Blaine on, please. If you want, come up here, but it won't be a pretty sight."

I heard a heavy sigh. "Kurt! What are you doing? Don't give up now!" Thump. "Is that Karofsky? We're coming Kurt, we're coming. Don't give-"

"Can you do one last thing for me?"

"Anything," he was crying now, "what do you need me to do?"

"Sing. Just sing. Keep singing no matter what you hear, just keep singing. I'm hiding my phone. I need you to be the last thing I hear." Thump.

"Kurt, I-"

"Please," I begged brokenly, "just this one last thing. For me?" Thump.

"Okay, okay. What do you want me to sing?"

Thump.

"How about we start at the beginning? Teenage Dream?"

Thump. It was almost open. I rushed to hide my phone, deciding on the loose tile on the ceiling. I pushed it aside, shoved the phone up there, and hit speaker. Perfect.

"You think I'm pretty, without any makeup on," his voice was so beautiful, even when it was marred with tears. This was it.

The door flew off of its hinges. Karofsky walked in, sweat pouring down his face. He sneered.

"Thought you could hide, didn't you fag?" I winced, and felt a phantom pain in my back.

"Do your worst."

He walked slowly towards me with a knife in his hand and I closed my eyes, smiling.

"You make me, feel like I'm living a, teenage dream, the way you turn me on…"

"What the hell is that?" Karofsky looked up, but couldn't see my phone through the ceiling tiles.

"I can't sleep, just run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back…" Blaine was seriously crying now, but it didn't matter to me. I just kept on smiling like an idiot until he dug the knife into my flesh. The pain was breathtaking, but I had to be strong. For Blaine. I just whimpered, not giving him the satisfaction of a scream.

Until the next stab came near my already scabbing arm wound.

"I'ma get your heart racing, in my skintight jeans, be a-" he halted when he heard my shriek, inhaling suddenly. No.

"Keep-keep singing. Keep going," I said weakly, hoping he could hear me. But my heart just about stopped when Karofsky looked up.

"I don't know where that damn phone is, but let me tell you this, Blaine Anderson. If you don't get up here right now, by yourself, with no weapons, willing to _die,_ there'll be plenty more screams where that came from."

As if to prove his point, he dug the knife into my arm again. I shouted involuntarily.

This was going to be a long night.

Xxx

I was on the edge. My vision was blurred and black dots were dotting around the peripheral. Blaine had stopped singing at the moment and I almost gave up. I almost let the blackness overtake me. But I was so, so glad that I hadn't.

"Stop!" cried an angel. Surely he was here to rescue me.

"You weaponless Anderson? No police with you? I'm not playing. I will kill him. He's practically dead already." I opened my eyes wider, making out an outline. The curly mop of hair confirmed my suspicions. Blaine. It was Blaine. I should have been happy to see him. Why was there a pit in my stomach?

Blaine. Blaine, the one who had stopped singing. After Karofsky's request. Blaine. Who had come here to die. No. No, Blaine, go. Go! My panic caused my cloudy sight to clear up for a short while.

He was looking at me, tears running down his perfect face. He had to leave. He had to. But instead he nodded. He couldn't. I couldn't let him.

"No." The word was quiet, weak. But it had so many emotions behind it. Love. Fear. Grief. Anguish. Pain. But also joy that I could save his life. That Blaine would get a chance to be something. The chance that had been taken from him. By me.

"No? All right then. But are you sure? There'll be a lot more fun where that came from," he gestured to my badly cut up, bleeding arm. Blaine caught sight of it, looking horrified.

"Kurt! You can't just do that! Your dad is waiting outside; he's waiting for _you_. Not for me."

I shook my head sadly, the move making me dizzy. I was in worse shape than I'd thought. There was no going back. Blaine had to let go.

"I can't. I'm sorry. I love you." Those words sealed my fate. Karofsky wouldn't stand by idly while I proclaimed my love for Blaine. Turned out I was right, but also wrong.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, captured by a camera a second too late.

Karofsky's face _did _contort with anger, but then with fear. He quickly raised the knife but was handcuffed before he could say _Kurt and Blaine forever_. Okay, he wouldn't ever say that. Under any circumstances. But still. You get my point.

Blaine's face was pure relief. He ran right at me after he had ascertained that, yes, the officers were here to save us, before stopping himself. Right. I was injured. But I threw myself at him anyway. It didn't matter how much my arm screamed, or how dizzy I felt, or how the officers were trying to pry us apart.

I just knew that with the experience always comes knowledge. And I was never letting go of Blaine again.

**A/N: No, this story is not over. It may seem so, and that last sentence wrapped the attack part pretty nicely, but there are going to be demons facing Kurt and Blaine when they return home. A disaster like this will have lasting repercussions. And let me tell you, reading about injuries is one thing. But trying to imagine them on a real human being? A different thing entirely. I dare you.**

**I would just like to thank everyone who has been reading this story thus far. The support has been incredible! I promise to update Because of Me soon, I just got so wrapped up in this story. Expect an update in a few days, give or take.**

**Reviews = A fluff chapter? Anything is possible!**


	7. Forgetting

Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the characters

Kurt's Turn:

"Don't touch me. Please." My broken voice was terrifying to me. When had I not been confident? When had my _voice, _my only weapon, not been confident? But I couldn't let the doctors touch me. Not yet. The last time someone had touched me I'd been tortured in front of the boy I loved. And I wasn't quite over it after about two days. Not at all.

"You have to hold still honey, we're trying to make you better. I won't hurt you, I promise." The nurse's efforts were in vain, and I cried out again when she reached towards me. Sighing in defeat, she slowly raised her hands. "I'm not touching you, I'm leaving, okay?"

I just nodded, tears welling up in my eyes. "Sorry." It was just a whisper. She nodded, pity filling her gaze. I resented it.

I was a mess. Yes, I was out of the hellhole that was my life under Karofsky, but I hadn't known how much of an effect it would have on me. I could barely even close my eyes without having flashbacks, let alone try to sleep. Every breath was shaky and people scared me. Innocent, ordinary people. People trying to help me.

I sighed in frustration. It seemed like I'd never heal. At least not completely.

I felt myself slowly slipping away into the blackness again.

Xxx

No. No! Get away from me! Get away you idiotic Neanderthal! Get away from him!

A nurse shook me awake, and she was murmuring something comforting in my ear. I immediately shied away from her touch. The dream had been so real. I shook my head, trying to clear it, but the images wouldn't go away. I'd never had a dream like this.

This time, it wasn't me being torn into. No, the world wasn't kind enough to leave it at that. Instead I got a view of Blaine's perspective.

I was standing there, helpless while he was cut and stabbed and- I shuddered again. The cries of pain had been so real. Watching the person you love being hurt isn't fun. Especially when it's someone so perfect, so beautiful, so _Blaine_.

"Honey, are you all right? It was just a dream," she added when she saw that I was still shaking. Oh Gaga, it was awful.

My heartbeat was speeding up and I shut my eyes tightly. I only wanted it to go away. It felt like I was ripping apart. I squeezed my eyes closed even more, trying to rid my mind of the mental pictures my dream had conjured up. Reality and non-reality were indistinguishable and I just tried to stay together. I focused on not falling apart.

The tears came anyway.

Xxx

Blaine's Turn:

It was the same dream. The one I'd had in the apartment, the one I'd had when I was first admitted, and now the one I'd had while under a drug induced sleep. The drugs were the only way I would even close my eyes: involuntarily.

It started out happy, and my mind was tricked every time. Memories blended together. We started at the coffee shop, but the next moment we'd be at Dalton, and the next, at regionals. It didn't matter. Soon enough, the same three tormentors stepped out and took Kurt away. I wanted to scream, but I had no voice. I wanted to run, but I had no energy.

"I said leave, lover boy. I'll kill him!" But I couldn't. And just as the knife started to move across Kurt's flawless, pale skin, I woke up, panting.

It's over. It's over. I worked solely on steadying my breathing, calming myself down, and slowing my heart rate. I was fine. Kurt was fine. It was gonna be okay.

Xxx

Kurt's Turn:

"Hey, you're awake! They knocked you out pretty good there, you know." My dad walked in, and I could see the conflicting emotions on his face; his concern was hidden by a false cheeriness that was almost worse.

"I guess they did. How long was I asleep?"

"Since yesterday morning," his eyes darkened, "You had some pretty severe injuries. How're you feeling?"

I did a quick evaluation. My stomach, arm, and shoulder were especially hurt, but it was the cuts on my back that made me wince. Those wouldn't be going away. Not ever.

"Ow." He almost laughed at my tone, but restrained himself when he saw my expression. As he went to sit in the chair closest to my bed, I immediately shrunk away from him. _He's your dad!_ My mind was shouting at me, but I wasn't listening.

I stayed silent and rigid as he called in a nurse, and the pain medication started to take effect again.

My world spun out of focus.

Xxx

Blaine's Turn:

Wes and David walked in hesitantly. The first thing I thought when they walked in was how strange that was; when I'd gotten back from summer in my family's beach home they'd practically tackled me. Then I remembered the circumstances.

"Hey man. You okay?" Wes was the first to speak.

"Yeah, I guess. Kurt's a lot worse off than I am."

There was a beat of silence, then David seemed to explode.

"What the hell happened? One second you're going out to coffee with Kurt and then the two of you disappeared off the face of the earth. And then you reappeared. In the hospital. Do you know how worried we were? We were asking everyone where you were and no one knew! You could've called or something!" David pretended not to notice Wes' piercing glare at his outburst.

"We got attacked, Kurt got kidnapped, and then he got tortured in front of me. Sorry I didn't call, it must've slipped my mind." The venom in my own voice startled me, and I felt bad when I saw the horror on both of their faces.

"Oh God Blaine, I'm so sorry. We didn't-"

I waved him off. "It's fine, I'm just a little edgy. Do you want to know what really happened?" They both nodded, so I told them everything, glossing over Karofsky's motives and the especially gory parts. I had to stop a few times, pushing images out of my mind. That was the last thing I needed. Their eyes grew wider the longer I talked, and when I finished they stood in shocked silence.

After a sufficiently awkward period of time, Wes walked over and sat on the edge of my bed. "You did right Blaine."

I was shaking my head before he even finished the sentence. If I'd done right, Kurt wouldn't even be in the hospital. If I'd done right we'd never have had to deal with this situation.

When I looked up again, Wes' eyes were dead serious. "There was nothing you could have done without making this situation a whole lot worse. Stop beating yourself up. Kurt needs you to be strong right now, you know that."

"He's right," chimed in David. Their faces were so honest, so sincere.

That's probably why I closed my eyes.

Xxx

Kurt's Turn:

"Okay, so here's what we're going to do. Your arm and shoulder on your right side have some pretty large gashes, so we'll stitch those up as well as the ones on your back. Your stomach will need more stitches than the other areas because of how deep the cut is there. Got it?" The nurse's gratingly upbeat voice was almost physically painful, but I forced myself to nod anyway.

"The doctor should be in to do those in a couple of hours, then." I half-expected her to wish me luck, but she just walked away. Like everyone else had.

Wes and David had stopped by earlier, but they didn't have much to say. Blaine had already told them the story. I resented their obvious concern, but I wasn't in a position to prove that I was fine. Their point was punctuated by the way I cringed at their proximity.

After some difficult small talk, I managed to get them to go back to school. I hadn't missed the look they shared, though.

Xxx

I stretched what I could without popping the new stitches. The process had been painstakingly slow, and I was exhausted. The only problem was that I really didn't want to sleep. I explained my predicament to a nurse, and she nodded kindly.

For the umpteenth time, my vision began to darken.

Xxx

Blaine's Turn:

"Ok sweetie, you're all set to go. I just need a parent to check you out." I groaned inwardly. Burt had called my parents and given them a very, very vague idea of what had happened. We didn't want them worrying (ha) about their misfit failure of a son.

"I'll call them." The nurse just nodded at me. I picked up my phone and began dialing my mom's number. Then I stopped. I needed a cover story, and I needed to know what Burt had told them before I asked my mom to come check me out. Something told me she wouldn't be too happy to hear about everything that had happened.

I paced around the waiting room, hoping Kurt's dad would come out and I could talk to him. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Thirty. And still no sign of anyone who could help me. I finally decided to go see Kurt.

I'd been strangely terrified to see him since I'd been admitted. When I last saw him, he was bloody, shaking, and in my arms. And I was crying. Not the best circumstances to leave someone. Especially someone you care about. I needed to see him, though. I needed to. It would be unfair of me to wait. I needed him, and he needed me.

I asked the lady at the desk where Kurt Hummel was, telling her he was my brother. It would make my life easier. When she gave me the number, I started to walk much more quickly than normal. The more I thought about seeing him the more it became a necessity. Finally I arrived. Room 219.

Xxx

Oh God. Nothing could've prepared me for this.

Kurt was asleep, but he wasn't resting peacefully. He would twist or kick at some invisible threat, then cry out in real pain as he hurt his arm or stomach or back or shoulder in real life. His skin had stitches in several places and he had bags under his eyes. The more I looked the harder it was not to look away.

He was talking, too. Most of it was incoherent, but the snatches I could hear weren't surprising.

"Get away-" Were his dreams the same as mine? I dearly hoped not. I hoped so much that his dreams weren't as horrifying and awful and painful as mine were. Kurt shouldn't have to go through that.

"Stop it you Neanderthal, leave him alone. He didn't do anything! Leave him alone-" Him? As in me? But I- I didn't- I was confused. I'd barely been touched. Why was Kurt telling them to get away from _him_ when Kurt was the one being hurt? It didn't make sense.

When he flailed again I grabbed his hand, holding it firmly. As he met the resistance, I gently shook his uninjured arm, waking him up.

When Kurt opened his eyes they were panicked. I met his gaze and he just looked at me with fear plainly written across his bruised face.

"Blaine?" His voice was raspy.

"I'm right here. It's okay." I tried to make my voice calming, but it did nothing to relax him.

"It's not okay though. It isn't. He was there, and you were there, and I-" his voice kept rising and getting more stressed with each word.

"Hey, calm down. It doesn't matter who was there, we're safe now. I promise. Do you want to tell me about your dream? I've had some nightmares here too," I admitted quietly.

"As much as I'd love to say no, I know I'll need to talk about it eventually. And preferably not to a therapist."

I smiled hesitantly; his joking was a sign of improvement, wasn't it?

"It started out the same as all the other ones. I was alone in a room with Karofsky and he was threatening me. But then you came in. Everything started to change and all of a sudden he was cutting you and there was blood _everywhere_ and- and it was so awful," his voice lowered, and I could barely hear the next sentence, "How did you do it?"

"How did I do what?"

"How could you watch me like that and not- not fall apart? The dream- it-" He broke off, tears running down his face.

I stopped short. Yes, it was horrible. Yes, I got nightmares. Yes, I thought about it all the time. But had I really fallen apart like Kurt had? And he'd been broken by a dream. I swallowed.

"I did, just not the same way, I guess. I get nightmares every time I try to sleep, and they're horrifying. I don't want you to get hung up over this, though. We're safe now. You just need to focus on getting better."

His tone immediately turned venomous, "How am I supposed to focus on getting better? Do you not get it? I was tortured, Blaine, and I can't even- I can't begin to describe those nights that you were there. I was absolutely _terrified_ they would hurt you. I let him carve into my skin for you, and you want me to focus on getting better? You want me to just forget it ever happened?"

I didn't know what to say. He was right. He was so right. I'd been an idiot. It wouldn't just go away like all of my other problems. Bullies? Gone. But this, this was different. And then I realized what I'd needed to say all along.

"No, I want you to heal. I just- I want us to get better together. Things won't go back to normal, I know that. But we can heal. I know we can. You're stronger than people think, you know."

"I know." I smiled a little at his response, turning to leave before I could start crying again. "And Blaine?"

"Yeah?" Just hold it together a little while longer.

"I want to get better too."

A/N: I had this whole fluff chapter planned out, but when I went to write it…this happened. There was hope at the end though, and the next chapter will be lighter, I promise. There were just so many things that started invading this chapter, namely the nightmares/memories. I figured when you go through something that traumatic you can't just forget about it. I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed and alerted this story, you guys are really awesome.

Will Blaine's parents freak out about what happened to him? Will their nightmares go away any time soon? How will the Warblers/New Directions react?

Stay tuned!

Reviews = me spending my spring break writing for you! : D


	8. Together

**AAAAHHHHH! (That is most definitely not the sound I made when I saw the preview for Born This Way and Kurt said he was coming back to McKinley, and also not the sound I made when I realized that they had set it up perfectly so that Blaine could come with him. Confrontation with Karofsky, anyone?)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Glee at the moment. But, as they say, everything is possible…**

Blaine's Turn:

My parents had reacted as was expected.

Are you all right? Oh my goodness, that's awful! Is your friend okay? We'll be filing a lawsuit, don't you worry. Feel better. Love you.

And it was all over the phone. They hadn't cared enough to come see me. Why would they?

Xxx

It was 3:12 in the morning at the Hummel household, and all was quiet. Why was I even awake? I groaned into my pillow, trying to fall asleep again. By 3:19, I was getting close to sleep. I was trying to keep my mind as blank as I could. Lately it was the best I could do. If I tried to conjure up any image, it would eventually turn darker. Much darker.

As I was about to drift off, I heard something. I strained my ears. I heard it again. It sounded like someone was- crying? I reached over and turned on my lamp, blinking at the sudden brightness. There it was again, definitely coming from next door. I crept slowly out of the guest room, squinting through the blackness in the hall.

I pushed Kurt's door open and saw a shape huddled into a ball on his bed. I couldn't make out much, but I didn't want to risk waking him up by turning on a light of some sort. Instead, I just made my way to him.

"Oh God oh no, please, no," I could hear his whispers as I got closer. Oh, Kurt. The nightmares hadn't lessened at all for me since- well since they originated. I was hoping it had been different for Kurt.

I was about to gently shake his shoulder when I pulled back. His shoulder was hurt. And I realized that he wasn't having a nightmare. He was having a memory. It was real. And even if I woke him up now, he wouldn't be able to escape it.

"Kurt, you have to wake up now," I said quietly into his ear. He shivered under me, burrowing deeper into the covers.

"No, stop, please stop, please-," I didn't think I could watch him any longer.

Looking for a safe place to move him, I settled for his lower arm, and tugged on it. "Come on, wake up. Wake up." At this point I was talking more to myself than to Kurt. I needed him to wake up.

Finally his eyes opened, and his startlingly blue eyes pierced mine.

"It's all right. I'm here." He just nodded, slowly relaxing into my arms, and I crawled into bed with him.

That was how we stayed the rest of the night.

Xxx

"I love your hair like this." Kurt was sitting on the couch, his hands playing with my un-gelled curls. They were in a state of extreme disarray, but he certainly didn't seem to mind. Besides his family, I was the only one he seemed comfortable being in close proximity to. I still remembered the heartbroken look on Mercedes' face when he told her to back up at the hospital.

"Uh huh," I replied, because it was the only thing I could think of to say. That felt _so_ good. I was trying not to lean on him because of his numerous injuries, but he seemed to be holding up fine.

It had been a week since our release from the hospital. Well, my release. Kurt had been kept for two days longer because of the very real chance that his stomach wound would cause complications. He'd been unbelievably lucky that it hadn't (the doctor's words, not mine. I couldn't consider anybody put through what he'd been put through 'unbelievably lucky').

One week of healing. One week of pain. One week of awful nightmares that we couldn't wake up from. One week together.

"Happy one week," I said, smiling a little. He stopped playing with my hair, thinking.

"One week of what?"

"Surviving," I said simply.

It seemed to be enough for him. He turned to me, a thoughtful expression in his eyes. I waited patiently for him to respond, studying his features. His eyes (Blue? Green? Gray? I still didn't know) were clear and carefree for the first time since the incident. He still had bruises smattering his cheeks, some more faded than others, but he had never looked stronger to me. He'd never looked more beautiful. Finally, a smile lit up his face.

"Happy one week. We made it."

Xxx

"Do you think you should? I know you think you're fine, but just think about it first." Burt's voice echoed through the house, and I stopped in the hallway. Now probably wasn't the best time to get breakfast. I'd been staying with the Hummels for a long time now, per Kurt's request. At first I'd felt a little uncomfortable accepting the offer, but now it was second nature to wake up in this house.

"Dad, I have thought about it. I've been thinking about it since I got home from that hospital three weeks ago, heck, I thought about in the hospital. I can go. It's not that big of a deal."

"You wouldn't let Mercedes near you." I could see Kurt visibly wince at that, and I decided to step in.

"Good morning. Sorry, but I couldn't help but overhear that conversation-"

"More like scream fest," muttered a tired looking Finn. I ignored him.

"…And I wanted you both to know that I can pick up Kurt's work if he wants me to." I looked at him, saying with my eyes what I couldn't say out loud. He wasn't ready, I think we all knew that, but he was just so stubborn sometimes.

He smiled calmly, resolutely. "That won't be necessary. I've made my decision."

I closed my eyes for one second longer than a blink. I should've known he wouldn't just give up. As Kurt liked to say, he was a Hummel, and Hummels didn't go down without a fight. Not ever.

Burt sighed tiredly. "All right kid. If anything happens, call me, you hear? You too, Blaine."

I nodded, oddly touched by the gesture. My parents would never have let me call them during work hours unless I was about to die. Okay, probably not even then.

"Yeah Dad, we'll be fine. Come on Blaine, Finn."

We walked to the car slowly, Kurt taking awkward steps to avoid moving his shoulder too much. It seemed like he would be relying on sheer will power to make it through the day.

It was a good thing he had plenty to spare.

Xxx

Kurt's Turn:

I was fine. I could go to school. If my dad thought that I would just stay at home and hide from the world, he had another thing coming. And no matter what Blaine thought, I wasn't going to freak out. I wasn't.

"Hey man, good to have you back!" said a random Warbler who I couldn't remember the name of. I was about to reply when he clapped a hand against my injured shoulder. I hissed in pain and seemingly out of nowhere, Blaine was by my side.

"You okay?" he asked me quietly. I jut nodded, still reeling from the shock. It was the closest anyone not related to me (besides Blaine) had been since my release. He looked up to the guy who had unwittingly hurt me.

"Not cool. Seriously, no contact. Got it?" The Warbler nodded mutely, hastily apologizing before he walked away. He looked thoroughly confused.

"If that doesn't send the rumor mill into a frenzy I don't know what will," I commented offhandedly, trying to make light of the situation.

When he looked at me, his eyes were pained. He said nothing, merely taking my hand as we walked to our next classes. Mine was English. He had History.

Every time we parted there was someone standing next to me, walking with me, asking me questions. What happened? Was I okay? Was Blaine? Why was I hurt? Was I going to need help catching up? I had to stifle a groan every time the cycle started again.

Patience. If it were somebody else returning after over a month, I knew I would be bombarding him with questions. But this was different, wasn't it? Because I couldn't answer their questions. I couldn't. I sighed inwardly. What was I supposed to do? Pretend some mentally insane Neanderthal of a jerk _didn't_ attack me?

"Kurt, do you have the answer?" I was startled out of my musings by an irate Mr. Jones.

It was going to be a long day.

Xxx

"Kurt!" I heard Wes coming up behind me and smiled. Finally, someone who knew the story. I was so thankful I didn't have to keep up false pretenses for the moment.

"Hi Wes."

"How're you holding up? Are you going to be fine for Warblers practice later?"

I laughed for the first time that day. "As much as I appreciate your obvious concern for my well-being," he blushed embarrassedly, "I'm fine. And yes, I should be fine to sing later."

"Good to hear. Is feel better the right sentiment?"

"I don't even know anymore," I answered sadly. Thankfully, he'd kept his distance, not coming closer than several feet away from me the whole conversation. He made to leave, but I stopped him.

"And Wes?" when he nodded, I continued, "Thanks."

He looked the slightest bit perplexed, but kept it to himself. "You're welcome," he answered simply, and left me to walk to lunch alone.

Alone, until I felt a familiar presence fall into step beside me. We didn't speak, we didn't have to, but the silence was comfortable. Every second I spent with him I knew I'd made the right decision. No pain in the world could ever equate to losing him. I was just surprised I was only figuring that out after I'd risked it all.

"Have you gotten asked half as many questions as I have?" I broke the silence, feeling a sudden need to hear his voice.

"I went through that last week. But I'm still getting a ton of questions. All about you. We should probably get our stories straight."

And we did. We came up with so many ideas, some ridiculous, others believable, that I thought my head would burst. Alien invasion. Car accident. Extreme wardrobe malfunction. Anything was possible.

"How about saying I tripped down three flights of stairs and getting it over with?" I snorted.

He just laughed, the sound a welcome change from the terror that I'd known. His lips curved upward, revealing a set of perfect teeth, and why was I staring at his mouth? That could be seen as creepy. But I couldn't look away.

"Kurt? You all right?" I paused for a moment, trying to formulate a response. It was difficult with his hazel eyes sparkling directly into mine. I decided to let my mouth do what it wanted to, it didn't even matter anymore as long as this boy was with me.

"I think I love you." Oh. That wasn't what I'd meant to say.

He just beamed. After a beat of silence he added, "You _think_?"

And that was when I decided life was too freaking short to waste pining over someone who loved you back. Way too short to do nothing about our relationship.

"I love you." And I kissed him. He seemed hesitant at first, and then realized I wasn't fragile and kissed me back.

But this kiss wasn't how I'd imagined our first kiss to be. It wasn't sweet or slow or chaste, and our surroundings didn't melt away. This kiss was tinged with desperation and want and need, with primal instincts so basic it frightened me. My hands instinctually went up into his hair, and tugged on his curls. We seemed to get closer and closer with every passing second until all I could think was _Blaine_.

I'd wanted to do that so badly the last few days, but this time was different. This time I _needed _to kiss him. It wasn't a desire anymore. It was a tangible need, one that if I ignored would eat away at me. It had crossed the fine line between a wish and a wish granted.

I couldn't have told you how long we stood there in the hallway, talking and kissing and just being together, but I could tell you how it felt. My burdens were being lifted away and all that mattered was the boy in front of me. We were stronger than we thought.

We made it through times so dark we couldn't tell anyone about them. We survived a knife-bearing psychopath. We escaped with each other.

And we made it. Together. Maybe there was hope after all.

**A/N: Here it is! Chapter 8! After all of the hurt, we finally got some comfort. I'm thinking of wrapping this story up pretty soon, the next chapter will probably be the last. There isn't much more to say without starting a whole different plot. Just out of curiosity, should I make the last chapter a continuation, like the others have been, or more of an epilogue that jumps a little bit farther into the future? And what do you guys think of it as a whole? As a reader, I know I'm extremely guilty of reading a story and thinking, **_**that was great!**_** Then I'll just move on to a different one. But to all of you silent alerters out there, I'd love to hear from you!**

**Thanks again to everyone who read this story up to this point! I love you all!**

**Will the nightmares ever go away? Will Kurt and Blaine's relationship last, or was it just born out of a desperate need to be loved? **

**Stay tuned!**

**Reviews = the reason this fic has been updated so regularly. It's all for you, kids! (not that I'm old myself, 14 is still young isn't it?)**


	9. All That Matters: Epilogue

**A/N: This is it. The end of Torn Apart. The first ever fanfic to be completed by me. I'd like to really thank each and every person who read this story, especially those of you who reviewed. It really made me smile every time I saw something new in my inbox. After much contemplation, I decided to go with an epilogue that is pieced together in brief moments. There's some angst, fluff, and even a song I wrote at the end encompassing their journey. It's the longest chapter I've ever written for a story, and I hope all loose ends are tied up. I love you all, darling readers, and it's been a great journey! Enjoy!**

Epilogue:

Kurt's Turn:

Blaine was gripping the chair so tightly his knuckles had turned white. His eyes were clenched shut when I walked in, and his whole body was shaking. His breath was coming in short, labored gasps. I rushed over quickly, recognizing it easily.

He was trapped in a memory. And I knew exactly which one it would be.

_Now Karofsky approached me with the knife, and I wanted to shut my eyes, but I couldn't. He rested the point on my collarbone, sliding it across slowly, leaving a red, wet trail where it had been. I held my head high, but it stung terribly. Then he moved the knife to my shoulder, cutting away my shirt. I shivered, and soon felt a sharp jab in my stomach. Hissing with pain, I looked down, only to have my head spin. Blood was oozing out of the wound at an alarming rate, and a whimper escaped my lips._

It was like a scene from a horror movie. And it was so easy to recall with perfect clarity. I assumed it would be even worse for Blaine. He'd had to watch it silently, helplessly.

The doctors all said that I had to watch out for triggers, be prepared for anything coming my way, but really it was Blaine who benefited from their advice. In the six months since the Karofsky incident (I refused to call it the 'Lover's Torment' because really? Sometimes Blaine was a walking cliché), we'd recovered slowly. The nightmares were still a common occurrence, and teachers still had pity in their eyes, but everything was calmer. More peaceful. As if being torn apart so abruptly had brought Blaine and I closer together.

I walked purposefully toward him and took a clammy hand into my own. He flinched, but I didn't let go.

"Blaine, it's me. It's Kurt. I'm not going to hurt you. It isn't real." I spoke slowly and calmly, trying to get him to respond even though every time he did my heart broke just a little bit more. Because he always responded the same way.

"But it _was_ real."

"It's over now. I'm here." And little by little his body would relax, his muscles unclenching. His usually warm hazel eyes would shed the glazed look and truly see me, and I would breathe a sigh of relief. It happened every time. The initial shock wore off after the first few months, but I was never more scared than when he took just a moment longer to recover. A second could feel like an eternity.

He shook his head, I assumed to clear it. It was just one of many gestures that were so completely Blaine it made me smile.

"Sorry," he said bashfully, looking at the ground. "I can't help it."

I pulled up his chin so I could look at him properly. "Do you really think you need to apologize? I was there too, you know. It's not something that's very easy to forget." He shuddered at my words, eyes filling with tears. I hated seeing him like this.

Leaning in, I pressed my lips to his forehead. He sighed a little bit, a ghost of a smile playing upon his lips. He then tilted his head upward just the slightest bit and we were kissing. It was nothing like the kisses filled with desperation we'd shared right after the attack. It wasn't full of need and fire and passion and primal desires. This kiss was different.

We didn't need because we had each other. We weren't desperate because we'd experienced desperate. Desperate was watching the person you love get hurt. Desperate was going days in a cramped room being treated like an animal. Desperate was not knowing if you'd ever see daylight again. This was the opposite of desperate. This was sweet and slow and absolutely perfect. We were all alone and we could do whatever we wanted to. This kiss was ours.

"I love you so much," Blaine said between kisses.

"I love you too," I replied simply. I didn't need to say anything else

It was all we needed to keep us going.

Xxx

Blaine's Turn:

The worst had come about two weeks after our rescue and recovery. When we'd arrived at Dalton, things had been mostly all right, if a little strange. After a short but graphic explanation of our situation courtesy of Burt, we got our own room almost automatically, which helped things. But it only made it worse when I heard Kurt crying or talking in his sleep. I'd had several vivid flashbacks, which hadn't really gone away fully, but were manageable. That was nothing compared to what had happened that night, however.

It was around midnight and I was working on a massive paper for English. Kurt had retreated about two hours earlier, saying something about needing his sleep and how it helped his skin.

That was when he started to kick, tossing and turning. It was a normal occurrence, and I hadn't given it too much thought. I did the same thing, I was sure. But then it took a turn for the worse. He was flailing, and every so often a sound would come out of his throat that made my blood run cold.

Needless to say, I'd given up on my paper ever reaching completion by this point.

I walked over to the bed, sitting on the edge. I didn't want to get punched again. I winced, remembering the last time that had happened. Slowly I found his hand, taking it mine. It was slightly cooler than it should have been, but I tried to stay calm. One of us needed to be strong at the moment, and Kurt didn't really have a choice. I rubbed soothing circles into his palm, but he didn't relax like he usually did. Suddenly, he yanked his hand out of my grasp. That was new. I panicked briefly, wondering what to do. And then I grabbed his shoulders and shook them in one last, desperate effort to wake him up.

Wrong move.

His eyes shot open, filled with terror. I sighed in relief. He was awake. Now we could-

"No." The word is clear as day, but it makes no sense.

"No what?" My question was full of confusion.

And suddenly the boy in front of me looked so much younger, pulling his knees up. His hair was sticking up in several different directions, his breaths were coming shakily, and he looked absolutely exhausted. But those eyes, they were older. Older and more tortured than the eyes of any seventeen-year-old boy had any right to be. He wrapped his arms around himself while mumbling, as if trying to hold himself together.

"No, no, please. Stop! Leave him alone!" His voice rose suddenly to a feverish pitch. I didn't have the slightest idea what to do. He was awake, wasn't he? But he was still living the nightmare.

I did the only thing I could think of to do. "It's okay, it's just me. It's Blaine. I'm not going to hurt you, I promise. It's over, Kurt. Look at me, it's over." My tone was low and steady, and suddenly it was like a haze was lifting, like he could actually see me.

"Blaine?" he asked tearfully, shivers wracking his frame. I nodded, keeping eye contact carefully.

"Are you okay?"

"I- I don't know," he answered, eyes growing wide with horror as he spoke. "Oh, please tell me that was a dream, oh please, please not a memory. I couldn't take it if it was real."

"What did you _dream_ about?" I was extremely cautious about putting the emphasis on dream.

"You were there, and I was there, and K-Karofsky was there," he began, "and it felt real. I had a dream like this before, you know. The one at the hospital. I was kind of standing in your metaphorical shoes, watching you get hurt instead of you watching me. But that's the worst nightmare I've ever had. I hoped so badly it wouldn't be recurring, and then it came back. I couldn't make them stop. I tried, I tried so hard, but I couldn't move-" he broke off harshly.

I ran a hand through my hair, shaking my head. "It still haunts me. So much. But you know that if that gun hadn't been pointed at your head I would've tried so unbelievably hard to get to you. And I know that you would've done the same. We love each other, and that's that. We went through some things that no one should ever have to go through, but it's over now."

He crept over to me in the darkness, leaning into my chest. His almost silent tears were heartbreaking, but I just held him, murmuring unintelligible words into his ear. We'd been to hell and back, but it was over now. We had each other.

That was all that mattered.

Xxx

It was late afternoon and classes were out. Kurt and I had retreated to the privacy of our dorm.

"Thinking about me again?" he teased, smirking at me. Had the wistful expression on my face been that obvious? Certain it wasn't, I calmed myself down. It was a habit I'd been perfecting since the Lover's Torment had occurred. Yes, that was the proper name. It had a dramatic ring to it. Kurt didn't approve, but I could call it whatever I wanted in the confines of my thoughts.

"No, actually. Not everything is about you, you know." My tone was equally as light and teasing, and in a moment he was on my bed, looking down at me.

"Really?" he asked, pushing our foreheads together. I lost the ability to form coherent thoughts.

He smiled. "I thought so." He reached under my shirt, his hands skimming my chest. I shivered at the cool touch. And suddenly he was tickling me, and I was laughing and batting at his hands until he had me restrained. I was pinned against the bed, glaring. Sometimes I hated being the smaller one.

He simply held my arms above my head, looking at me evilly. The gleam in his eye was making me nervous.

"I knew you were ticklish, but I didn't know you were _that_ ticklish," he commented offhandedly.

"I'm not! You caught me off guard!" My protests were cut off when he rearranged his hands. One was now holding my wrists together, still above my head. The other was pressing a finger to my lips, silencing me.

He soon released me, but I didn't move. After a charged silence, his eyes shifted into something a little bit more playful, and he winked at me.

"Kiss me."

He didn't have to ask twice.

Xxx

Kurt's Turn:

Two words. Two words could make my hide my face in horror. Just two words could make me cringe. Two words needed an intervention on my part.

Blaine's wardrobe.

"What kind of a gay are you? You say you read Vogue, yet you dress in jeans and a t-shirt whenever you aren't in that Dalton uniform! Which you wear far too much to be considered even close to normal!" I was in the middle of my mid-morning rant. Blaine knew my routine by now.

"But I _like_ the uniform! It…fits!"

"That has got to be one of the worst explanations I've ever heard in my entire life. It's awful and you know it. And don't even get me started about your hair."

"When did my hair come into this? You know it tends to-"

"Look awesome when you don't put gel in it? Yes, I do."

He groaned exasperatedly. It wasn't as if we'd never had this conversation before. He, for some sad, misguided reason, seemed to think that making your hair resemble a bad wig was a good idea. But I knew I was right, at least for the moment, and we had more pressing issues.

"I am taking you shopping right now, and if you even think about leaving…" I let the threat hang in the air for a few moments before I heard him agree tiredly.

...

Dragging him into the mall was the easy part. Convincing him to try on the latest coat from Marc Jacobs? Not so much.

"Kurt, this is ridiculous! When will I ever wear any of this stuff? Dalton has _uniforms_ and I'm kind of a jeans-and-a-t-shirt kind of guy, if you haven't noticed. I know you love fashion and all, but it isn't really my thing."

I just emitted a long-suffering sigh, dragging him under protest to the next set of shops.

Some people just didn't get it.

Xxx

"I could've sworn I put it right here!" His voice echoed through the hall and I smiled at how flustered he sounded.

"What are you looking for?" I asked as I walked in. Blaine was tearing at his (natural for once?) curls, looking frantically for some mystery object. This wasn't a surprise to me; I could usually find him in this position at least once a week, searching for something he misplaced. A book, a homework assignment, his sunglasses. Who knew where those things went?

"My gel!" Oh. Maybe I knew.

The day before I may or may not have taken every single bottle of that repulsive gel and hidden it in my 'empty' suitcase. What were friends for?

"Oh, such a shame. I guess you'll have to go natural today." He actually seemed to buy the false coolness in my voice. Yes, I was innocent. Obviously.

"I can't, though! I have an _afro!_ An afro!"

"You do not have an afro, it's really not that bad. Come here." And he did, walking towards me with apprehension written plainly across his features. I just rolled my eyes and led him into the bathroom to get some hairspray. Gently shaping his curls, I took just a little bit longer than necessary to tame them without creating his signature helmet head. Could I really be blamed for wanting to touch his hair when he kept it so restrained all the time?

He looked into the mirror when I finished, grinning widely. "I guess it isn't too bad, is it?" I just laughed in reply, thinking of all the hair gel hidden in my suitcase. I knew now it wasn't going to be replaced.

I might have to send it to a worthier cause than Blaine's nonexistent 'afro.'

Xxx

"I was kind of hoping these would fade in time, but I guess I should've known once the doctors said they would scar." I ran a hand gently over my shoulder, feeling the puckered lines where I was so brutally torn into. Blaine winced sympathetically, but soon regained his composure.

"I think they just show how strong you are," he said, sincerity filling his voice.

I sighed, looking at the angry red remainders of the worst few days of my life. I couldn't even bear to look at the ones on my back. The ones that spelled out the ugliest three-letter word in the whole English language. The ones that Karofsky had imprinted on my skin forever.

Blaine was looking at me with anguish, slowly closing himself off as he'd done so many times before. The constant flashbacks were painful for the both of us, even if they were starting to lessen in intensity. I quickly grabbed his hand, looking at him.

"It's over." I said firmly, and he nodded a bit dazedly.

"I know, I know. I just- sometimes I wish I had done more, because everything went wrong, and all of this could've been prevented, and-"

"Do you realize how many times we've had this conversation? It's almost ridiculous. And we avoided coffee shops for weeks after we got back. It would be funny if it weren't true." I commented sadly.

His eyes lit up, something I said sparking a memory of some sort. "That reminds me! I wrote you a song. Well, it's actually for both of us."

"Can I hear it?"

"Yeah, you can. It doesn't have a name yet…"

I smiled at him, "We can name it together."

Nodding, he cleared his throat and began to sing without accompaniment. His voice floated easily through the lilting melody and I watched in awe.

_In the toughest circumstances  
You were dragged away  
I thought I'd lost all chances  
On that cold, forsaken day_

_I found you lost and broken  
And soon they broke me too  
They'd caught me when I was hoping  
That I might just get out with you  
_

_They tried to break us so many times  
But they never broke us on the inside  
We were torn apart but we came back together  
We're stronger now than we were before  
And we can see what life might have in store  
They thought they crushed us, but now life's much better  
_

_All the lines across your skin  
Make you wince in disgust  
But you're beautiful within  
Why can't you just trust_

_I'd loved you since I met you  
But I'd never thought I'd lose  
The one I could relate to  
The one that I did choose_

_They tried to break us so many times  
But they never broke us on the inside  
We were torn apart but we came back together  
We're stronger now than we were before  
And we can see what life might have in store  
They thought they crushed us, but now life's much better  
_

_We were torn apart,  
But we came back together_

I knew I was crying, but nothing was registering at the moment because all I could think was how perfect this song was. How perfect he was. And that it was true. We were stronger now. We could never leave each other after all that we'd been through. We could never doubt our feelings for each other, and we could never forget any second of our relationship because time was precious.

He was beaming at me and I practically leaped into his arms, causing us both to fall on the bed. He laughed a little bit, and I was startled to realize he was crying too.

"I love you so much." My voice wavered, marred with tears.

"I love you too. I can't believe it took all that for us to finally realize that."

"Neither can I." I smiled, feeling the silent tears still falling down both of our faces. His cheeks were growing a little red, and I didn't even want to think of my complexion right now. It was probably splotchier than spilled ketchup on a white tablecloth.

"We're a mess, aren't we?" he laughed into my hair, and I readily agreed.

As long as we were together, I wouldn't have it any other way.

_**The End.**_


End file.
